Carolee J. Horning's Blog
July 28, 2020
Apocalypse
Since I opened my private practice in March, I have been spending more time on my clinical blog. So it has been a while since I've visited this, my personal blog. I have had thoughts now and then to write about, but it had never come to fruition. However, a text I just received has moved me to write.
One of my colleagues on the Emergency Department Crisis On-Call team messaged and said she has three patients right now, with a fourth one they are trying to divert to another ER so she does not have to see them.
We have been averaging three to four patients A DAY lately in the ER with mental health crises. Before "the end of the world," we would at most get two a day, and on average we each did 8 hours a month. I had ten hours last weekend alone. What is happening?
It is a scary time. The pandemic increases fears and isolation. With trauma, those suffering isolate and avoid. Healing comes with others. But the resource of "others" is limited right now for so many.
I am fortunate. I live with my sister and we have a healthy relationship. I have a career I love and can do via Zoom and phone full time. I have my "pod" of friends that we see socially on occasion at our homes. And my family and friends are all healthy.
But so many do not have such blessings. So many are immersed in fear and anxiety, and depression, and hate.
The leaders in this country are not helping to decrease the fear and hate and safety of our nation. I cannot believe how much entitlement I see in the news every single day. I seriously read an article the other day where a woman in a Verizon store in California became upset because she was "forced to wear a mask" so she URINATED on the store's floor.
I mean, that's what a toddler does when they are throwing a tantrum. But this was an adult woman. Is this what our Nation has become? Is that what being an American means now?
When I was a kid in school back in the '80s, I felt so lucky to have been born in America. I know I am still fortunate in many ways. But I cannot condone the entitlement. I cannot condone the division. I cannot condone the hate.
I try to help in my small way, by processing and caring for my clients, and caring for the patients I see in the ER who have nowhere to go. Even those very mentally ill that should be hospitalized are not because there are no open beds in the entire state. It is so frustrating and sad. Right now, that's the America we all live in, whether we are wearing blinders or not.
One of my colleagues on the Emergency Department Crisis On-Call team messaged and said she has three patients right now, with a fourth one they are trying to divert to another ER so she does not have to see them.
We have been averaging three to four patients A DAY lately in the ER with mental health crises. Before "the end of the world," we would at most get two a day, and on average we each did 8 hours a month. I had ten hours last weekend alone. What is happening?
It is a scary time. The pandemic increases fears and isolation. With trauma, those suffering isolate and avoid. Healing comes with others. But the resource of "others" is limited right now for so many.
I am fortunate. I live with my sister and we have a healthy relationship. I have a career I love and can do via Zoom and phone full time. I have my "pod" of friends that we see socially on occasion at our homes. And my family and friends are all healthy.
But so many do not have such blessings. So many are immersed in fear and anxiety, and depression, and hate.
The leaders in this country are not helping to decrease the fear and hate and safety of our nation. I cannot believe how much entitlement I see in the news every single day. I seriously read an article the other day where a woman in a Verizon store in California became upset because she was "forced to wear a mask" so she URINATED on the store's floor.
I mean, that's what a toddler does when they are throwing a tantrum. But this was an adult woman. Is this what our Nation has become? Is that what being an American means now?
When I was a kid in school back in the '80s, I felt so lucky to have been born in America. I know I am still fortunate in many ways. But I cannot condone the entitlement. I cannot condone the division. I cannot condone the hate.
I try to help in my small way, by processing and caring for my clients, and caring for the patients I see in the ER who have nowhere to go. Even those very mentally ill that should be hospitalized are not because there are no open beds in the entire state. It is so frustrating and sad. Right now, that's the America we all live in, whether we are wearing blinders or not.
December 18, 2019
Burning Chaff
It has been a while since I visited this blog. I have often thought of things to write about, but the movement from thought to action has not occurred. At times I get bogged down in thinking, why would anyone care what I write about? Not a lot of people read this anyway, so why bother? But then I remember the true reason I write. I write for me, to help process events, thoughts, and behaviors. I have a quote on my office wall that states, "The more we talk about something, the less power it has over us." That goes for writing too.
Probably the biggest thing that has happened since I last wrote was my dog, Rupert, passed away. It happened quickly. I went to Yellowstone Park, and the day I arrived home, he was sick. Six days later, he passed away. He was full of cancer.
Rupert was not just a dog. He was my family. He was... my first child. He saved me in many ways. Literally and figuratively. I suppose that is one of the reasons it has taken me all these months to write about losing him. It was too hard.
Getting Rupert touched my heart in a way it had never been touched before. Having him gave me a reason to try to be happy. After getting him is when I started therapy. Now, ten years later, I'm a therapist. Talk about going full circle.
Then there was the time I came home from work and sat on the sofa. Usually Rupert would snuggle next to me, or lay on his bed. But this time he sat in front of me, between me and the tv, and just stared at me. When you've had a dog for awhile, you understand their looks. Feed me. I'm tired, let's go to bed. Can we go for a walk? None of these looks were on Rupert's face at that moment. So I got up and walked around. This was in my old house when I had roommates. I discovered in the kitchen one of my mates had left TWO burners on in the kitchen! I turned them off and Rupert relaxed. That was my boy.
In October my sister and I got a new puppy. We named him Beauregard, which means "handsome looking." I am training him to be a therapy dog and he comes to work with me once a week. The clients love him. The other therapists love him. It's going well. Beau has claimed another space in my heart. I know Rupert would be happy that I'm happy.
There is one other thing I wanted to write about. It is something our interim pastor preached about a few weeks ago. He was talking about the bible verse that described separating the chaff from the seed. He gave a description of an old woman he once visited. It was during the holidays, and he was run down, having a difficult time in his own life, etc. He knelt down in front of this woman and they were talking softly, holding hands. She leaned in and said, "I pray for you every day." In that moment, he began to sob. He remembers feeling her energy, the holy spirit, pouring out of her into him, "burning all the chaff inside of me away."
I thought of all the people in my life that have done that for me, and I am so grateful. Rupert was one, yes. (And I know he's not a "people" but work with me here!) But there have been many others. I am grateful to you all. I think you all know who you are. I try my best to tell people when I care about them because I know how much that means to me... and I don't want to regret not telling someone.
It's amazing how much I used to "live in the past" in my head, and I don't do that anymore. I've come a long way. My only wish is that I had more time. I've just started living.
Probably the biggest thing that has happened since I last wrote was my dog, Rupert, passed away. It happened quickly. I went to Yellowstone Park, and the day I arrived home, he was sick. Six days later, he passed away. He was full of cancer.
Rupert was not just a dog. He was my family. He was... my first child. He saved me in many ways. Literally and figuratively. I suppose that is one of the reasons it has taken me all these months to write about losing him. It was too hard.
Getting Rupert touched my heart in a way it had never been touched before. Having him gave me a reason to try to be happy. After getting him is when I started therapy. Now, ten years later, I'm a therapist. Talk about going full circle.
Then there was the time I came home from work and sat on the sofa. Usually Rupert would snuggle next to me, or lay on his bed. But this time he sat in front of me, between me and the tv, and just stared at me. When you've had a dog for awhile, you understand their looks. Feed me. I'm tired, let's go to bed. Can we go for a walk? None of these looks were on Rupert's face at that moment. So I got up and walked around. This was in my old house when I had roommates. I discovered in the kitchen one of my mates had left TWO burners on in the kitchen! I turned them off and Rupert relaxed. That was my boy.
In October my sister and I got a new puppy. We named him Beauregard, which means "handsome looking." I am training him to be a therapy dog and he comes to work with me once a week. The clients love him. The other therapists love him. It's going well. Beau has claimed another space in my heart. I know Rupert would be happy that I'm happy.
There is one other thing I wanted to write about. It is something our interim pastor preached about a few weeks ago. He was talking about the bible verse that described separating the chaff from the seed. He gave a description of an old woman he once visited. It was during the holidays, and he was run down, having a difficult time in his own life, etc. He knelt down in front of this woman and they were talking softly, holding hands. She leaned in and said, "I pray for you every day." In that moment, he began to sob. He remembers feeling her energy, the holy spirit, pouring out of her into him, "burning all the chaff inside of me away."
I thought of all the people in my life that have done that for me, and I am so grateful. Rupert was one, yes. (And I know he's not a "people" but work with me here!) But there have been many others. I am grateful to you all. I think you all know who you are. I try my best to tell people when I care about them because I know how much that means to me... and I don't want to regret not telling someone.
It's amazing how much I used to "live in the past" in my head, and I don't do that anymore. I've come a long way. My only wish is that I had more time. I've just started living.
August 14, 2019
Basketball
I could feel it washing over me like a tidal wave. I can't tell you if it started at my toes or my head, or was just suddenly all-encompassing. But it took me over and possessed me. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't even fight. I just had to acknowledge it and do the best I could.
It's what happens with PTSD. Suddenly, I wasn't the 48-year-old woman anymore. I was the 15-year-old-girl.
I asked my sister, Laura, afterward if she could tell. She was sitting beside me at the time. She stated, "Well, I could tell you were definitely feeling very vulnerable."
One thing I have learned about my healing is confrontation is helpful. I know it does not change the past. I even know the other person (creep, a boss, a friend... whomever) may not perceive things in the same way I do or even care. But that is not the point. It's about taking my power back and gaining some kind of control over a situation that during the time, I had no control over.
Control is important for survivors of trauma because when the event occurred, we had none. We felt helpless, worthless, shame, guilt... many negative feelings and maladaptive thoughts. For me, in confrontation, I am turning all of those into some kind of understanding which results in a more positive feeling.
Ever since I was in high school, I have had nightmares about basketball. I loved basketball. There was a time we even thought I might get a scholarship someday. Or maybe I could even be a walk-on and make something happen. Not at a huge school, perhaps, but somewhere. I played Varsity even as a Freshman but didn't actually start until my Sophmore year. I wasn't the fastest, but I was a good shot. I remember one game against Siuslaw, are rivals, where I scored 27 points, and their coach came over after the game and shook my hand and called me Pistol Pete. I guess there was an NBA player that went by that name.
Anyway, basketball was one thing that gave me joy throughout all the abuse. I didn't have to think about anything else except ball, hoop. I was one of the best free-throw shooters, and always a top scorer. I'm still on the list at my old school for being one of the top rebounders. I had good hands, if not fast feet.
Most of you did not know me then, nor were there during that time, but my senior year was heartbreaking. I'm not going to get into specifics, because those don't matter. All I will say is that the one thing I found joy in, basketball, was ruined. And to this day I still have nightmares about it.
This past weekend was my 30th highschool reunion. One of my favorite teachers was there and coincidentally, he had been my basketball coach during that senior year. I asked to meet with him because I want the nightmares to stop.
It was not a personal attack or anything like that. He was so gracious, and I truly appreciated that he took the time to meet with me. But as soon as we sat down at that table, I was fifteen again. We haven't talked since school, so I don't know if he could tell or not. It's embarrassing and upsetting, but it's a part of PTSD and I can't stop it. I didn't let it stop me, however. I talked with him about my feelings, and how I've had nightmares, and that I hoped just meeting with him to talk about it would help. I can't thank him enough for his support and graciousness.
I am proud of myself for confronting. Confrontation does not have to be a "bad word," or a negative event. It can be healing. Whether you are 15 or 48.
It's what happens with PTSD. Suddenly, I wasn't the 48-year-old woman anymore. I was the 15-year-old-girl.
I asked my sister, Laura, afterward if she could tell. She was sitting beside me at the time. She stated, "Well, I could tell you were definitely feeling very vulnerable."
One thing I have learned about my healing is confrontation is helpful. I know it does not change the past. I even know the other person (creep, a boss, a friend... whomever) may not perceive things in the same way I do or even care. But that is not the point. It's about taking my power back and gaining some kind of control over a situation that during the time, I had no control over.
Control is important for survivors of trauma because when the event occurred, we had none. We felt helpless, worthless, shame, guilt... many negative feelings and maladaptive thoughts. For me, in confrontation, I am turning all of those into some kind of understanding which results in a more positive feeling.
Ever since I was in high school, I have had nightmares about basketball. I loved basketball. There was a time we even thought I might get a scholarship someday. Or maybe I could even be a walk-on and make something happen. Not at a huge school, perhaps, but somewhere. I played Varsity even as a Freshman but didn't actually start until my Sophmore year. I wasn't the fastest, but I was a good shot. I remember one game against Siuslaw, are rivals, where I scored 27 points, and their coach came over after the game and shook my hand and called me Pistol Pete. I guess there was an NBA player that went by that name.
Anyway, basketball was one thing that gave me joy throughout all the abuse. I didn't have to think about anything else except ball, hoop. I was one of the best free-throw shooters, and always a top scorer. I'm still on the list at my old school for being one of the top rebounders. I had good hands, if not fast feet.
Most of you did not know me then, nor were there during that time, but my senior year was heartbreaking. I'm not going to get into specifics, because those don't matter. All I will say is that the one thing I found joy in, basketball, was ruined. And to this day I still have nightmares about it.
This past weekend was my 30th highschool reunion. One of my favorite teachers was there and coincidentally, he had been my basketball coach during that senior year. I asked to meet with him because I want the nightmares to stop.
It was not a personal attack or anything like that. He was so gracious, and I truly appreciated that he took the time to meet with me. But as soon as we sat down at that table, I was fifteen again. We haven't talked since school, so I don't know if he could tell or not. It's embarrassing and upsetting, but it's a part of PTSD and I can't stop it. I didn't let it stop me, however. I talked with him about my feelings, and how I've had nightmares, and that I hoped just meeting with him to talk about it would help. I can't thank him enough for his support and graciousness.
I am proud of myself for confronting. Confrontation does not have to be a "bad word," or a negative event. It can be healing. Whether you are 15 or 48.
July 10, 2019
The Click
I was working with a client today and she asked me a question that took me back to the early days of my own therapy. She told me how she has never felt joy in her life, she has always been “melancholy.” I had said something like “It (her trauma) is what happened to you, but it isn’t who you are.” Then I paused and clarified. “Perhaps that is not completely true. What happened to you changed you. You would not be who you are today if it had not had happened. But it doesn’t need to define you. It’s like a huge boulder you are carrying around, and because of that weight, you can’t feel anything else… not joy, not hope. But I promise you, when you decide to let it go, and put the boulder down, you will feel so much lighter, and you will find hope.”
“How do I do that?” she asked, with a skeptical look on her face.
“Well,” I told her, “it is different for everybody. Each survivor has their own unique path. One day, it will just click.” I then asked permission to share some self-disclosure. I only self-disclose if I think it will be helpful to the client. In this situation, I think it was.
I told her how it “clicked” for me. I mentioned how I was sexually abused by someone when I was 13 and he was in his 60’s. I told her, how at that time, at the beginning of my therapy, I believed this was just a relationship that had ended badly, that I was broken, and there was something wrong with me. This went on for probably a year at least before I had my “click.”
Jo had gently asked me, “How old are you?” I think I was 39 then, so that is what I replied. “So you are 39 now. Can you imagine yourself dating a 13-year-old boy?” Of course, I could not. It was a disgusting thought. And Jo said to me, “And he was sixty, much older than you are now.”
That was the moment I gave in. I put the boulder down and acknowledged the fact that yes, I had to admit it. I’d been abused, and it was not my fault.
I know this client will find her way. She is motivated and working hard on herself. She came to realize she needs to put the boulder down. She realized the little girl was not to blame. Those are some huge steps and some great progress. I can't wait for her "click!"
“How do I do that?” she asked, with a skeptical look on her face.
“Well,” I told her, “it is different for everybody. Each survivor has their own unique path. One day, it will just click.” I then asked permission to share some self-disclosure. I only self-disclose if I think it will be helpful to the client. In this situation, I think it was.
I told her how it “clicked” for me. I mentioned how I was sexually abused by someone when I was 13 and he was in his 60’s. I told her, how at that time, at the beginning of my therapy, I believed this was just a relationship that had ended badly, that I was broken, and there was something wrong with me. This went on for probably a year at least before I had my “click.”
Jo had gently asked me, “How old are you?” I think I was 39 then, so that is what I replied. “So you are 39 now. Can you imagine yourself dating a 13-year-old boy?” Of course, I could not. It was a disgusting thought. And Jo said to me, “And he was sixty, much older than you are now.”
That was the moment I gave in. I put the boulder down and acknowledged the fact that yes, I had to admit it. I’d been abused, and it was not my fault.
I know this client will find her way. She is motivated and working hard on herself. She came to realize she needs to put the boulder down. She realized the little girl was not to blame. Those are some huge steps and some great progress. I can't wait for her "click!"
June 19, 2019
May 29, 2019
Conflicted
For quite a while now, I have been cruising along feeling pretty good. Sure, there have been days that are better or worse than others. As Professor Gene James would say, "Welcome to being human." And there is no denying that triggers happen, dreams or nightmares happen and no matter how much acceptance I have found regarding my past, how much forgiveness I have for myself, and how much self-awareness I now have regarding blame and shame and guilt... none of that will ever make the trauma gone. It can never be erased. It shaped my mind, my soul, and even my heart. All that trauma, whether physical, sexual, emotional or mental were all imprinted on my brain. It made me who I am today, warts and all.
Going back to school to get my Master's in clinical mental health has helped me find purpose and given me a focus. I love my job. I love my clients. Even when I am having a bad day, they fill me up. Overall, I have felt very stable and content.
And then EMDR came around.
As a clinician, I have witnessed its benefits. Just yesterday I had a client I've been treating with EMDR. It is the first time she has had counseling. She was raped repeatedly at the age of 7 by her mother's boyfriend. She blames herself, has shame and guilt, and "is bad." And she has hated her mother for not protecting her. Yesterday, on our third session, she had a major breakthrough in regards to forgiving herself and knowing there was nothing she could do. In three sessions. Talk therapy usually takes years for that kind of breakthrough. For myself, it was over a year before I got passed "it was a relationship that ended poorly."
I've had other clients have breakthrough's in the very first EMDR session, where their pain regarding a distressing memory is just... gone. Granted, that is not for complex PTSD. But still... I know EMDR is a valuable tool in helping others.
I think the difference with me and the clients I'm treating with EMDR, is that my clients are in a more acute state. They have never really dealt with the distress. They were not as far along on their healing journey as I am. I will never be fully healed... there are always scars left behind... don't get me wrong. But I have been working on myself for over ten years now. Those doors were already opened and explored.
Now, with my training and having to experience EMDR as a client, I've been poking around in boxes and rooms that had already been processed. I had found some ease with myself. Some relief. Not perfect, and some ups and downs, but overall, I was at peace.
Ever since training, I've been depressed. I'm in pain. I'm sad. And I can't shake it.
I'm always up around 7 AM in the mornings when I'm off work. My body is pretty regular. I've always had one of those "inner" alarm clocks. This Sunday? I didn't wake up until 9:23 AM. Oops, not making it to church. That is for three weekends in a row. I'm not sure what that is about. Is it an unconscious thing, or just a coincidence? And I'm tired. I am in a depressed funk, and I believe it is all because EMDR stirred things up.
I have a couple of colleagues that tell me I should see this therapist they see in Eugene that does EMDR and she is "a counselor for counselors." Jo has always been my person. But she doesn't do EMDR. My colleagues say that perhaps I'm so stirred up inside and feeling the way I am now because there is stuff in there I need to still deal with. But I'm not so sure. Yes, of course, there is stuff inside. Therapy doesn't erase what happened. But I have more understanding and compassion and acceptance.
So I'm conflicted. EMDR is a great treatment approach. But I don't know if it is for stuff you already have dealt with. But on the other hand, have I dealt with it completely? Would I be feeling this way if I had?
Maybe it's like a bug bite. The more you scratch it, the worse it can get. If you just leave it alone after applying some cream, it will stop itching.
I have no answer. I just know I'm not feeling great, and I don't like it.
Going back to school to get my Master's in clinical mental health has helped me find purpose and given me a focus. I love my job. I love my clients. Even when I am having a bad day, they fill me up. Overall, I have felt very stable and content.
And then EMDR came around.
As a clinician, I have witnessed its benefits. Just yesterday I had a client I've been treating with EMDR. It is the first time she has had counseling. She was raped repeatedly at the age of 7 by her mother's boyfriend. She blames herself, has shame and guilt, and "is bad." And she has hated her mother for not protecting her. Yesterday, on our third session, she had a major breakthrough in regards to forgiving herself and knowing there was nothing she could do. In three sessions. Talk therapy usually takes years for that kind of breakthrough. For myself, it was over a year before I got passed "it was a relationship that ended poorly."
I've had other clients have breakthrough's in the very first EMDR session, where their pain regarding a distressing memory is just... gone. Granted, that is not for complex PTSD. But still... I know EMDR is a valuable tool in helping others.
I think the difference with me and the clients I'm treating with EMDR, is that my clients are in a more acute state. They have never really dealt with the distress. They were not as far along on their healing journey as I am. I will never be fully healed... there are always scars left behind... don't get me wrong. But I have been working on myself for over ten years now. Those doors were already opened and explored.
Now, with my training and having to experience EMDR as a client, I've been poking around in boxes and rooms that had already been processed. I had found some ease with myself. Some relief. Not perfect, and some ups and downs, but overall, I was at peace.
Ever since training, I've been depressed. I'm in pain. I'm sad. And I can't shake it.
I'm always up around 7 AM in the mornings when I'm off work. My body is pretty regular. I've always had one of those "inner" alarm clocks. This Sunday? I didn't wake up until 9:23 AM. Oops, not making it to church. That is for three weekends in a row. I'm not sure what that is about. Is it an unconscious thing, or just a coincidence? And I'm tired. I am in a depressed funk, and I believe it is all because EMDR stirred things up.
I have a couple of colleagues that tell me I should see this therapist they see in Eugene that does EMDR and she is "a counselor for counselors." Jo has always been my person. But she doesn't do EMDR. My colleagues say that perhaps I'm so stirred up inside and feeling the way I am now because there is stuff in there I need to still deal with. But I'm not so sure. Yes, of course, there is stuff inside. Therapy doesn't erase what happened. But I have more understanding and compassion and acceptance.
So I'm conflicted. EMDR is a great treatment approach. But I don't know if it is for stuff you already have dealt with. But on the other hand, have I dealt with it completely? Would I be feeling this way if I had?
Maybe it's like a bug bite. The more you scratch it, the worse it can get. If you just leave it alone after applying some cream, it will stop itching.
I have no answer. I just know I'm not feeling great, and I don't like it.
May 17, 2019
Sliver
Many times with clients, I compare a wound to the therapy process. Some people get a wound on their arm, and with little or no attention, it heals itself. Some people get a wound on their arm, and it gets some bacteria in there, or a sliver. It needs to be re-opened and cleaned out before it can heal. Still others suffer from many many wounds, all depths and various infections that are very complex. (The last is an example of complex PTSD, like I have.)
I am beginning my second phase of EMDR training and certification. It is so fascinating. EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing. It mimics REM sleep when the movements of the eyes back and forth occur during our dreams when our subconscious is attempting to process what happened to us in our past or in the day. EMDR helps the brain heal itself, by helping to remove the "sliver" between our right brain and our left brain so a memory is less disturbing. For example, a client was abused we do EMDR processing, and instead of being intensely disturbed, she begins to see the memory as a postcard or snapshot in her past, without an emotional, cognitive, or somatic disturbance.
Many people with complex trauma learn to disassociate or "numb out" in their day to day life so they can function. But something comes along and triggers them, causing that immense distress. That is why people are so ignorant when they say, "Why can't you get over it?" Because that "sliver" is there in the brain until it is removed. With EMDR, you have to arouse the memory, "poke the bear" - go through the tunnel, and come out the other side. You clean out the wound. And then you can heal.
Neuroplasticity is real. Our brains can change. EMDR aids in the change. It is the most researched and studied modality found to be effective for trauma.
In our training, we have to do both the client role and the clinician role. We process our own stuff. We have to. It can't be fake or made up.
A lot of people have asked me about EMDR, how it works, and if it's "voodoo." So I thought I'd share my experience today so you can begin to understand it. And it also helps my own processing by writing all this down. Keep in mind today was just the tip of the iceberg or a snapshot of one session.
Because it's a training and we are pairing up with a clinician we don't really know, it can be difficult for someone like me with complex trauma to pick a memory that is not too distressing. But this time I was a lot more authentic than last time, and I feel great after today! Not as drained as last time, for sure.
As a client, I was asked what is my "presenting complaint." What issue did I want to work on? This isn't necessarily a memory, but it will trace back to one.
Brene Brown has a saying, "The story I tell myself." This is a phrase we often use when we are troubled by something. It is not necessarily rational, or true, or even in the arena. But because of our past traumas or conditioning, it is how our brain is wired to explain whatever we are upset about. This was the crux of my issue this morning. I wanted to change the story I tell myself, because I know it isn't accurate. I conduct negative self-talk and negative beliefs about myself - in this incident for training - in friendships. I tell myself friends pull away because I'm too needy, not worth it, need too much time, attention, or validation.
The next question the clinician asked was, "What recent experience have you had that represent this issue?"
I don't want to use real names in this part, so I will call them Bill and Ted. I replied I thought I was very close with Bill and Ted, but in the past few months I have felt like they have pulled away, and I feel rejection, abandonment, and like I'm just not worth being their friend. This is the story I'm telling myself. Logically I know this is crap. Plus, it is not showing much faith or trust in my friends, is it? It is disrespectful of their friendship. Perhaps even disloyal. Yet, emotionally this is how I feel and think. I feel a hollowness in my chest, and fuzziness in my head when I think about them, and feel the distance between us. (Imagined distance, I'm sure.)
Next the clinician asks, "As you focus on the most recent incident and negative belief you're having about yourself, the emotions and sensations, let your mind floatback to an earlier time when you may have felt this way before. Just notice what comes to mind."
My answer today: I remember a summer day when we went camping with creep. The night before an "incident" had happened. On this day, as a family, we went hiking and to a museum. He shunned me, avoided me, ignored me. He told me later he was "teaching me a lesson" and we needed a "cooling down period," and "you are too emotional and too much of a tonic to me." He was punishing me for what I thought was "loving" him.
Next the clinician asks, "In addition to what we've already discussed, what other situations trigger this problem for you in your current life?"
I seek validation. I need it. A lack of communication is a trigger. Inattentiveness from someone I care about. If Bill and Ted never initiate, that's a trigger.
Then we turn to what the client wants? The clinician asked me, "Tell me how you would like to see yourself handling this situation in the future."
My answers today? Not to have negative self-talk and distressing emotions. To gain more confidence in myself in friendship. Know that my friends can be trusted. They have earned it. And to know I am a good person.
I'm going to skip a bit here and move to what realization I had today during this process.
Clinician asked me, in regards to what I want to have happen or believe about myself in the future... "Can you remember a time when you embodied this quality or saw it someone else?"
I remembered my friend, Erika. My old college roommate. We can go years without seeing each other, yet I don't have those distressing emotions. I don't need her validation or attention. I know she loves me just the way I am. When we are together, it is like no time has passed. I feel laughter, and joy... like champagne bubbles in my chest when I think of us together. And it's been a couple of years since we have spent time together.
In EMDR we use those memories and desires and triggers, and initiate Bilateral Stimulation... the clinician moves their fingers in a sideways motion back and forth in front of the client so their eyes move side to side, a mimic of REM movement. There is no talking at this point. The clinician moves their hand, the client watches and thinks/feels their memory... and the brain processes. The clinician will periodically stop the movement and ask, "What did you notice?"
I can't explain the feeling. But I started the day feeling heavy. Guilt about my "What I'm telling myself." And now I made this huge connection about Erika.
This was just Phase 1 of 7. Tomorrow and Sunday we will continue through the present trigger and incident (Bill and Tim), and how that is a reflection of the "Touchstone Memory" of creep shunning me. The goal is for all distress surrounding that memory to diminish, and have those triggers fade.
This was long, but I hope you found it even a little interesting and/or helpful. And here is to more processing tomorrow!
I am beginning my second phase of EMDR training and certification. It is so fascinating. EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization Reprocessing. It mimics REM sleep when the movements of the eyes back and forth occur during our dreams when our subconscious is attempting to process what happened to us in our past or in the day. EMDR helps the brain heal itself, by helping to remove the "sliver" between our right brain and our left brain so a memory is less disturbing. For example, a client was abused we do EMDR processing, and instead of being intensely disturbed, she begins to see the memory as a postcard or snapshot in her past, without an emotional, cognitive, or somatic disturbance.
Many people with complex trauma learn to disassociate or "numb out" in their day to day life so they can function. But something comes along and triggers them, causing that immense distress. That is why people are so ignorant when they say, "Why can't you get over it?" Because that "sliver" is there in the brain until it is removed. With EMDR, you have to arouse the memory, "poke the bear" - go through the tunnel, and come out the other side. You clean out the wound. And then you can heal.
Neuroplasticity is real. Our brains can change. EMDR aids in the change. It is the most researched and studied modality found to be effective for trauma.
In our training, we have to do both the client role and the clinician role. We process our own stuff. We have to. It can't be fake or made up.
A lot of people have asked me about EMDR, how it works, and if it's "voodoo." So I thought I'd share my experience today so you can begin to understand it. And it also helps my own processing by writing all this down. Keep in mind today was just the tip of the iceberg or a snapshot of one session.
Because it's a training and we are pairing up with a clinician we don't really know, it can be difficult for someone like me with complex trauma to pick a memory that is not too distressing. But this time I was a lot more authentic than last time, and I feel great after today! Not as drained as last time, for sure.
As a client, I was asked what is my "presenting complaint." What issue did I want to work on? This isn't necessarily a memory, but it will trace back to one.
Brene Brown has a saying, "The story I tell myself." This is a phrase we often use when we are troubled by something. It is not necessarily rational, or true, or even in the arena. But because of our past traumas or conditioning, it is how our brain is wired to explain whatever we are upset about. This was the crux of my issue this morning. I wanted to change the story I tell myself, because I know it isn't accurate. I conduct negative self-talk and negative beliefs about myself - in this incident for training - in friendships. I tell myself friends pull away because I'm too needy, not worth it, need too much time, attention, or validation.
The next question the clinician asked was, "What recent experience have you had that represent this issue?"
I don't want to use real names in this part, so I will call them Bill and Ted. I replied I thought I was very close with Bill and Ted, but in the past few months I have felt like they have pulled away, and I feel rejection, abandonment, and like I'm just not worth being their friend. This is the story I'm telling myself. Logically I know this is crap. Plus, it is not showing much faith or trust in my friends, is it? It is disrespectful of their friendship. Perhaps even disloyal. Yet, emotionally this is how I feel and think. I feel a hollowness in my chest, and fuzziness in my head when I think about them, and feel the distance between us. (Imagined distance, I'm sure.)
Next the clinician asks, "As you focus on the most recent incident and negative belief you're having about yourself, the emotions and sensations, let your mind floatback to an earlier time when you may have felt this way before. Just notice what comes to mind."
My answer today: I remember a summer day when we went camping with creep. The night before an "incident" had happened. On this day, as a family, we went hiking and to a museum. He shunned me, avoided me, ignored me. He told me later he was "teaching me a lesson" and we needed a "cooling down period," and "you are too emotional and too much of a tonic to me." He was punishing me for what I thought was "loving" him.
Next the clinician asks, "In addition to what we've already discussed, what other situations trigger this problem for you in your current life?"
I seek validation. I need it. A lack of communication is a trigger. Inattentiveness from someone I care about. If Bill and Ted never initiate, that's a trigger.
Then we turn to what the client wants? The clinician asked me, "Tell me how you would like to see yourself handling this situation in the future."
My answers today? Not to have negative self-talk and distressing emotions. To gain more confidence in myself in friendship. Know that my friends can be trusted. They have earned it. And to know I am a good person.
I'm going to skip a bit here and move to what realization I had today during this process.
Clinician asked me, in regards to what I want to have happen or believe about myself in the future... "Can you remember a time when you embodied this quality or saw it someone else?"
I remembered my friend, Erika. My old college roommate. We can go years without seeing each other, yet I don't have those distressing emotions. I don't need her validation or attention. I know she loves me just the way I am. When we are together, it is like no time has passed. I feel laughter, and joy... like champagne bubbles in my chest when I think of us together. And it's been a couple of years since we have spent time together.
In EMDR we use those memories and desires and triggers, and initiate Bilateral Stimulation... the clinician moves their fingers in a sideways motion back and forth in front of the client so their eyes move side to side, a mimic of REM movement. There is no talking at this point. The clinician moves their hand, the client watches and thinks/feels their memory... and the brain processes. The clinician will periodically stop the movement and ask, "What did you notice?"
I can't explain the feeling. But I started the day feeling heavy. Guilt about my "What I'm telling myself." And now I made this huge connection about Erika.
This was just Phase 1 of 7. Tomorrow and Sunday we will continue through the present trigger and incident (Bill and Tim), and how that is a reflection of the "Touchstone Memory" of creep shunning me. The goal is for all distress surrounding that memory to diminish, and have those triggers fade.
This was long, but I hope you found it even a little interesting and/or helpful. And here is to more processing tomorrow!
April 25, 2019
Change
Change, "The act or instance of making or becoming different."
"I don't like change," is a common theme from clients in my office. Yet, it is inevitable. Besides, does anyone like change? Some are more flexible than others, true. Yet, when things seem to be going smoothly, like a well-oiled machine, no one likes it when the "change" occurs.
At our parish council meeting last night, we were discussing the book, "A Door Set Open: Grounding Change in Mission and Hope." With Pastor Tom retiring, we are currently in transition, determining our church's mission and what we want in a new pastor. Change can be scary. I was certainly thrown when I heard the news of Tom. It was a change I did not want.
Last night, our interim Pastor Brian asked questions about change. I can't remember the exact wording, but during the discussion I mentioned how most of the time, looking back, I have determined that change in my life brought about growth, experience, and knowledge. Sometimes I didn't see those things until a long time later.
Some of the changes I look back on in my life now:
* Moving to Seattle shortly after college. I was mourning the losses caused by my abuse. I was purposely isolating myself. I was miserable. From that, I learned Oregon is my home, and I need my family.
* Rupert. Getting him as a puppy changed my heart. I realized there was more to life than just going through the motions. I learned I wanted to live. I learned I needed help.
* Jo. My counselor. Therapy helped me change my way of thinking and feeling and behaving. I put the hurt, sad little girl, away, for the most part, and became a woman. I let go of the guilt and shame. Mostly. I changed my communication, becoming open and honest, painfully so.
* Careers. For a while, I floundered after leaving the restaurant industry. I thought managing a veterinary practice was what I should do. Now I look back and view that as the "rebound relationship." Being a therapist is what I am meant to do. Helping others in this way. It's like a ministry in a way. And everything in my life up to this point... all those changes, led me to where I am supposed to be.
And what have I learned so far with the changes at United? I've learned there are good "men of the cloth" out there. I've learned I can trust again. Yes, relationships change, and sometimes they even fade, whether we want them to or not. But others step up if you let them. I still miss Pastor Tom. I am sure a part of me always will. But I have a feeling going through this process of transition will bring me more growth, more experiences, and more knowledge.
"I don't like change," is a common theme from clients in my office. Yet, it is inevitable. Besides, does anyone like change? Some are more flexible than others, true. Yet, when things seem to be going smoothly, like a well-oiled machine, no one likes it when the "change" occurs.
At our parish council meeting last night, we were discussing the book, "A Door Set Open: Grounding Change in Mission and Hope." With Pastor Tom retiring, we are currently in transition, determining our church's mission and what we want in a new pastor. Change can be scary. I was certainly thrown when I heard the news of Tom. It was a change I did not want.
Last night, our interim Pastor Brian asked questions about change. I can't remember the exact wording, but during the discussion I mentioned how most of the time, looking back, I have determined that change in my life brought about growth, experience, and knowledge. Sometimes I didn't see those things until a long time later.
Some of the changes I look back on in my life now:
* Moving to Seattle shortly after college. I was mourning the losses caused by my abuse. I was purposely isolating myself. I was miserable. From that, I learned Oregon is my home, and I need my family.
* Rupert. Getting him as a puppy changed my heart. I realized there was more to life than just going through the motions. I learned I wanted to live. I learned I needed help.
* Jo. My counselor. Therapy helped me change my way of thinking and feeling and behaving. I put the hurt, sad little girl, away, for the most part, and became a woman. I let go of the guilt and shame. Mostly. I changed my communication, becoming open and honest, painfully so.
* Careers. For a while, I floundered after leaving the restaurant industry. I thought managing a veterinary practice was what I should do. Now I look back and view that as the "rebound relationship." Being a therapist is what I am meant to do. Helping others in this way. It's like a ministry in a way. And everything in my life up to this point... all those changes, led me to where I am supposed to be.
And what have I learned so far with the changes at United? I've learned there are good "men of the cloth" out there. I've learned I can trust again. Yes, relationships change, and sometimes they even fade, whether we want them to or not. But others step up if you let them. I still miss Pastor Tom. I am sure a part of me always will. But I have a feeling going through this process of transition will bring me more growth, more experiences, and more knowledge.
April 5, 2019
Our System Is Broken
Imagine you are a mom. Imagine you are a mom that had a terrible, abusive childhood. Imagine you are a mom that didn't know any better and married a terribly abusive man. Imagine you are a mom striving to protect your son from his abusive father, but unable to do so. Imagine you fight to put this husband and father behind bars because of what he did to you and your son. Imagine you find another husband, good and kind, who adopts your son. Imagine you have two more children with this man. Imagine your first son, maybe because of genetics, but more likely because of trauma, begins to abuse your children. Imagine doing everything you can to protect all your children, including following DHS and mandatory reporting procedures, but being told "there is nothing we can do," but if your younger children get hurt "you will be at fault for failing to protect." Imagine getting your older but minor-aged son into a care facility, only to have him released back to you with limited support or resources. And he goes back to doing the same thing to his younger siblings. Imagine being told by DHS and CPS and counselors there is nothing we can do right now because we have no resources, we have no bed for this boy to get him the help he needs and the protection your family needs. Imagine being this mother, striving to help her older son but being afraid of him, of what he has done and what he still may do. Imagine being this mother fearful for her other children. Imagine being this mother screaming and crying for help, and being told... there is no place. There is nothing we can do. You just have to wait, until a bed opens up... or something worse.
Just a snapshot of my day today.
And people are worried about building a wall. This is the US. This is reality. And some days it feels like no one cares.
I care. But caring isn't enough.
Just a snapshot of my day today.
And people are worried about building a wall. This is the US. This is reality. And some days it feels like no one cares.
I care. But caring isn't enough.
March 14, 2019
You Cannot Buy Bread At A Hardware Store
I woke up feeling off today, and I'm not sure why. Got the blues, and I'm not sure why. So what do I do? Post!
There have been a couple of sayings in my mind as of late that I've used or heard in therapy that can be a struggle for myself and others. The first is the above title, "You cannot buy bread at a hardware store."
I think we all struggle with that in our relationships. We ask for something that the other just cannot give. Or won't give. This has come up for me with the latest regarding George Pell. (I will not call him Cardinal Pell.) You may have heard he was convicted in Australia for sexually abusing two choirboys. He was given six years in prison. First, it's completely logical to believe Pell abused many more boys in their youth in the past than just the two. Secondly, he basically murdered their souls, and he gets six years?
The Church has not stripped him of his title. They probably won't. Asking for true forgiveness and repentance and change from the church is like going to a hardware store and asking for bread. It's just not gonna happen.
I have clients that live in abusive relationships. They keep going for their partners asking for bread. I have people in my life that can't give me what I want, yet I keep hoping. That makes it not about them, but about me. I need to quit asking the Hardware store for the bread.
The next statement I've been pondering a lot is on the door of my office. I like to tape images or quotes on the backside, inside my office. This one quote is, "You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm!"
This one is about self-care in a lot of ways. A lot of my past work relationships especially had me always setting myself on fire. Or at least it felt that way. The same can go for relationships. If a relationship doesn't give you joy, then perhaps it's not one you should be in, especially on an intimate basis. In a healthy relationship, you don't set yourself on fire for the other.
I think of my past a lot when I think of the quote. When I was being abused, I didn't tell my parents. I didn't tell anyone. After the abuse, I didn't tell anyone for decades. That is very common in childhood sexual abuse. We don't tell. In my case, I thought I was protecting my family because I didn't want to hurt them, but in the end I was already hurting them by not being happy, and not being myself, and not including them. And it was detrimental to my own health.
That being said, it's a fine line these days. Look at the #Metoo movement. Survivors speak out, and they are burned at the stake for it, or not believed, or blamed. Or their abuser gets only six years in prison. In my case, my abuser had no punishment. Just a retirement in a community where he was not allowed to say Mass to the public, but he could still say it with fellow priests.
Telling my story gave me my power back. It brought me closer to my family. It also distanced me from those who would rather I set myself on fire for them. I'm more at peace now.
That's not to say I don't still at times blame myself. My thoughts now swirl to what made me a target? What was it about myself that called out to be prey? Was it because I was willing to set myself on fire for others? Was it because I was looking for bread at the hardware store? I don't know. But it's got me pondering.
There have been a couple of sayings in my mind as of late that I've used or heard in therapy that can be a struggle for myself and others. The first is the above title, "You cannot buy bread at a hardware store."
I think we all struggle with that in our relationships. We ask for something that the other just cannot give. Or won't give. This has come up for me with the latest regarding George Pell. (I will not call him Cardinal Pell.) You may have heard he was convicted in Australia for sexually abusing two choirboys. He was given six years in prison. First, it's completely logical to believe Pell abused many more boys in their youth in the past than just the two. Secondly, he basically murdered their souls, and he gets six years?
The Church has not stripped him of his title. They probably won't. Asking for true forgiveness and repentance and change from the church is like going to a hardware store and asking for bread. It's just not gonna happen.
I have clients that live in abusive relationships. They keep going for their partners asking for bread. I have people in my life that can't give me what I want, yet I keep hoping. That makes it not about them, but about me. I need to quit asking the Hardware store for the bread.
The next statement I've been pondering a lot is on the door of my office. I like to tape images or quotes on the backside, inside my office. This one quote is, "You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm!"
This one is about self-care in a lot of ways. A lot of my past work relationships especially had me always setting myself on fire. Or at least it felt that way. The same can go for relationships. If a relationship doesn't give you joy, then perhaps it's not one you should be in, especially on an intimate basis. In a healthy relationship, you don't set yourself on fire for the other.
I think of my past a lot when I think of the quote. When I was being abused, I didn't tell my parents. I didn't tell anyone. After the abuse, I didn't tell anyone for decades. That is very common in childhood sexual abuse. We don't tell. In my case, I thought I was protecting my family because I didn't want to hurt them, but in the end I was already hurting them by not being happy, and not being myself, and not including them. And it was detrimental to my own health.
That being said, it's a fine line these days. Look at the #Metoo movement. Survivors speak out, and they are burned at the stake for it, or not believed, or blamed. Or their abuser gets only six years in prison. In my case, my abuser had no punishment. Just a retirement in a community where he was not allowed to say Mass to the public, but he could still say it with fellow priests.
Telling my story gave me my power back. It brought me closer to my family. It also distanced me from those who would rather I set myself on fire for them. I'm more at peace now.
That's not to say I don't still at times blame myself. My thoughts now swirl to what made me a target? What was it about myself that called out to be prey? Was it because I was willing to set myself on fire for others? Was it because I was looking for bread at the hardware store? I don't know. But it's got me pondering.
